Life's Little Luxuries
by Virtuous Vampire
Summary: Please...please don't kill me,"she pleaded."Why not?" Caught by surprise, she struggled to find the words to explain.DraculaOC.One-Shot. R&R!


**Hi, Brat Princess here. This is just a quick one-shot about Dracula. It's partly inspired by Roxburgh's (amazing) portayal of Dracula and 'Interview With The Vampire'. Please review I don't care what kind! Enjoy.=)**

**Life's Little Luxuries**

The moon's reflection danced benevolently on the street puddle. Its joy was broken when a large boot splashed through it, shattering the glittering image. The boot, or to be more accurate, the wearer of the boot, took no notice of his blunder and continued trudging determinedly down the abandoned side-street of Visceria. Luckily the moon found a new surface in which to reproduce itself. Through the enticing albeit menacing eyes of Count Vladislaus Dracula, the moon sparkled in twin pools of oceanic blue.

For the better part of four centuries Dracula had walked these same streets. The cobblestones felt familiar under his feet; they were one of the only things that seemed timeless left in the changing village. Where newly built taverns and inns decayed relatively quickly and newborn babies in cots changed to aged corpses in coffins in the blink of an eye, the cobblestones felt and remained exactly the same.

It occurred to him that he was using the cobblestones as a metaphor for himself. For he too was timeless. Not one wrinkle had creased his perfectly sculpted face and never would. No illness would ever be able to breach the walls of immortality. Even if night's heavy curtain was pulled back to reveal the sun he would not sizzle and shiver under the flaming ball's glare. His only weakness were the werewolves and they were completely under his control. He was untouchable, invincible.

He sometimes strolled through Visceria when he had nothing better to do. The work on the progeny was going nowhere and he was sick of his brides petulant whinging. Did they not understand that projects of this magnitude took time? They of all people should be patient, they had hundreds of years of practice. He had no doubt that all three were huddled together in their chamber, crying their shrivelled hearts out. He had needed to escape. Such melodramatic displays of emotion made him cringe inwardly.

What he needed right now was a distraction. He could always harass the Valerious…he never grew tired of that. Young Princess Anna had blossomed into a ravishing creature. Perhaps he could offer to warm her bed….figuratively of course…

Suddenly a high-pitched wail pierced the cool night air. Dracula doubled back out of curiosity. Down a dark alley to his right a young woman was bent over, howling like a banshee.

_Poor little lost lamb._ Dracula thought mockingly as the cruel snarl of a predator spread across his perfectly proportioned face. He ambled over to her, but kept a respectable distance between them. She almost jumped out of her skin in shock when she realised that she was no longer alone. Dracula stared at her intently, his eyes drinking in every feature of her face. She had long, luscious, golden curls that cascaded down her back like a waterfall of sunshine and her glacier blue eyes glistened like sapphires in the darkness of the night. He found her gorgeous. In fact, she reminded him of Marishka.

She on the other hand didn't seem happy to see him. Her eyes widened in terror when she realised who he was. She trembled as she opened her mouth and uttered one word.

"Vampire", she choked out.

"Is that anyway to greet a gentleman? By labelling him as a creature and not as a person? My dear, you hurt my fragile feelings." He scolded although his eyes still danced with suppressed laughter.

She didn't respond, too frozen with fear to do anything.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Dracula. And you my dearest are?" he nodded expectantly.

"Loreli" she muttered.

If he were a normal man he would not have heard her. Being a vampire had it's benefits.

"Loreli? The siren who leads sailors to their deaths? How fitting. Your beauty is almost tragic in it's brilliance. Sadly you cannot lead me to my death. I faced mine long ago. It is sad that your beauty will lead to your demi-" she cut him off.

"Please…please don't kill me," she pleaded.

Her heart was beating so erratically that Dracula thought he could dance to it's frenzied beat. He tilted his head slightly to the side and asked "Why ever not?"

This response caught her by surprise. She struggled to find the words to explain.

"There's so much I haven't done. I'm so….young," she finished feebly.

"Death will not let a little thing like age prevent him from taking what he wants. I hear he is even more insistent than I am," he countered.

"But I have so many years left," she protested unconvincingly.

"You do not know what fate has in store for you. Your heart could give out at any moment, you could slip and fall at a wrong angle, the possibilities are endless. Also, what difference does it make if you die here tonight or fifty years from now? You will suffer the bitterness of mortality and none of life's little luxuries will be enough to quench your yearning for youth."

He closed the gap between them.

Up close she wasn't so perfect. He could see the eye make-up smudged under her eyes, the sweat sticking her hair to her neck. He could practically taste her mortality, the sweet rot of corruption. He ran his thumb lazily over her lips tracing every curve, while his fingers cupped her chin.

"Wouldn't you prefer if people remembered you as you are now, the epitome of youth and beauty, than the hunchbacked, toothless visage of old age?"

Before she could answer, he silenced her by tracing the skin of her face with the back of his hand. "Your hair will turn grey and fall out in clumps", he caressed a lock of honey between his thumb and his forefinger, "your pink, smooth flesh will wrinkle," he slid his hand down her elegant neck sending sparks of both fear and desire down her back, "and the firm breasts will sag." With this last observation he placed his hand inside of her blouse and stroked her right breast as if it were a fine work of art. He coaxed the eager nipple until it hardened with desire and a reluctant moan escaped Loreli's full lips.

He brought his face close to hers until their noses were touching intimately. His eyes were locked on hers.

"What is your answer?" he asked, almost gently.

"By death, d-do y-you mean-"

He chuckled. "Oh no my love I already have a bleating blond plaything. I see no need for another. Not that you aren't charming but I detest your shrill voice. Given a decade or so and it would drive me mad," he ignored the hurt look in her eyes. "Now, what will it be; remembered forever young or an old hag?"

She suddenly thrashed against him trying to escape. "I won't play your twisted game!"

His smile never left his face. "Forever young it is."

He pushed her back against the wall effortlessly. He swept her hair aside and bent down to bite her neck.. She went rigid with fear and something else._ Was it possible that part of her still wanted him?_

"I know you are a virgin" he husked against her skin, his cool breath tickling her neck.. "And normally I would rid you of such a burden, but my brides…their petulance will soar if they discover I've been unfaithful yet again so take comfort in the fact that you shall depart this world the way you entered it; untouched and unspoiled."

With that he licked her swan-like neck hungrily, earning a whimper of what emotion he remained unsure. He then placed his icy lips on her throat. He could feel her pulse beating madly. Her neck felt no different than the necks of the thousand or so other girls he had killed over the centuries. He didn't think of them in that moment. The movement of the blood was mesmerising. He could feel it pulsating against his eager fangs through the barrier of her smooth skin. He broke his reverie and sank his fangs into the tender flesh. Her body went still. He finished after a few moments and dropped her motionless body to the ground. He licked his lips, savouring the taste of fresh blood on his tongue.

Count Dracula emerged from the alleyway and continued walking. Although the blood had been satisfying, part of him, the part that resided in his trousers, regretted not taking her.

_Perhaps next time._

He also felt slightly let down. Life had failed to offer him anything out of the ordinary. What Dracula didn't realise was that he had been offered a chance of redemption and had blatantly refused it.

**Authors Notes; So......what did ye think? Please let me know!xoxoxoxox**


End file.
